<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ache Like I Ache by GreasyLocks</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681944">Ache Like I Ache</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreasyLocks/pseuds/GreasyLocks'>GreasyLocks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sally Face (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Disassociation, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, It gets kinda gross, M/M, Mrs. Packerton is good, Oh My God, Other, Recreational Drug Use, Trans Male Character, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, ashley is asexual, but he's just too easy to antagonize, how did i forget to tag that, i love travis, kind of a vent fic??, please be careful reading this, sally needs a hug, there's nothing kinky about any of this, vivid depictions of molestation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:34:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681944</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreasyLocks/pseuds/GreasyLocks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And if you do what's told, you will make me happy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chug/Maple (Sally Face), Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson, Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps, Todd Morrison/Neil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dog Bait</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>“You gotta stop hangin with Charley, dude,”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, but I promised Lisa I'd help with the plumbing.”</p><p> </p><p>I motioned to her speedwalking to another room. </p><p> </p><p>“Just be careful, okay? He’s a <em>huge</em> creep. Caught him jerking off watching glitter ponies,” </p><p> </p><p><em>Fuck, </em>that's a whole other level of gross.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Ew</em>,” </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>, gave me nightmares for weeks.”</p><p> </p><p>I took out a pack of CBD gummy bears to get. the little bag said 'Hempbo' instead of Haribo. </p><p> </p><p>“Dude! Where’d you get those?”</p><p> </p><p>Uhh... should I tell him?</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hypothetically</em>,”</p><p> </p><p>Uh oh, he's giving me <em>that</em> look.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not gonna like this, am I?”</p><p> </p><p>“What if I told you Charley gave them to me?”</p><p> </p><p>I've never seen so much disappointment on one person's face.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Sally…</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, he’s been nice to me,”</p><p> </p><p>Ew, I sounded like I fell out of SVU.</p><p> </p><p>“Famous last words, man,”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be careful,”</p><p> </p><p>“Swear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Scout’s honor.”</p><p> </p><p>"Seems legit. you still have that walkie talkie on you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, yeah. Why?"</p><p> </p><p>"Keep it on you just in case, Sal. Seriously, I don't want you getting hurt."</p><p> </p><p>Damn, Larry means business. He's almost never this serious.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll wait outside."</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks, Larry," </p><p> </p><p>"Anytime." </p><p> </p><p>And with that, I stepped inside Charley's room.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bad Skin, Doll Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'll keep you in a jar, and you'll think you're happy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tw: A l o t of discomfort and groping</p><p>Shit happens, literally and figuratively.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Afternoon, Charley."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don't think about the glitter ponies.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, hey Sally Face."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don't think about it, Sal.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Toilet troubles, right?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don't do it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, but now I'm ready for the final season of Glitter Ponies!"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Damnit...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Good...good for you, man."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, that yellow cart thing is by the bathroom."</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks."</p><p> </p><p>Before I did anything, I grimaced at his toy collection.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Yuck, I'll never look at those the same again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I walked halfway across the room before Charley spoke again.</p><p> </p><p>"Cool jeans, by the way. They look really nice on you."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Huh. I don't know how I feel about that.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, um, thanks?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I need to get snag this cart get this over with. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I grabbed the cart and walked into the bathroom with a little more urgency.</p><p> </p><p><em>Shit</em>, <em>literally</em>.</p><p> </p><p>This shit stank was <em>Unholy</em>. Even the wallpaper was browning. I took out the plunger, the toilet brush, and the cleaning product with a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>"Lisa, give me strength..." </p><p> </p><p>after a <em>lengthy</em> game of tug of war, I finally unclogged the toilet.</p><p> </p><p>I started to scrub, but as I did I heard the floor...creak? That's weird, Charley NEVER gets up when he's binge-watching. </p><p> </p><p>I ignored it and continued cleaning, making a noticeable dent in the grime on the toilet.</p><p> </p><p>Then I heard the door creak open. I felt eyeballs glaring at my legs. I would've thought it was a ghost if I hadn't heard Charley's loud breathing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fucking creep. He's probably stared at Lisa too.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Um, Charley?"</p><p> </p><p>No response. He just stood there, staring at me. <em>All</em> of me.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I need to leave, this is really freaking me out.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>That's what I told myself before I was shoved against the sink.</p><p> </p><p>My whole body just...froze.</p><p> </p><p>Charley held me there and slithered his free hand up my shirt. I shook and cried like a kicked dog and that only seemed to make him enjoy it more. </p><p> </p><p>"You're like a little, obedient, doll."</p><p> </p><p>It felt like his words morphed into a hand and groped my shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Just wait it out, Sal. It'll be over soon.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>PLEASE don't fetishize this work. This isn't arousing in any sense of the word. I've seen this happen in some other Non-con works and I don't want that energy here.</p><p> </p><p>Suggestions, comments, and kudos are always appreciated :)</p><p> </p><p>SHORT NOTE: This is not the only time assault will happen in this fic. This is to establish a dynamic and to get the ball rolling a little bit. PLEASE be careful reading this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bruise Violet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'll give you breathing holes, and you'll think you're happy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I sat in the shower for a good 30 minutes. I cried long and hard, not caring if dad could hear me. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Why?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I asked and pleaded with desperate sobs.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Why me?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I had tears, snot, mucus, and drool running down my face.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Why is it always me? Why can't I have good things?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I wept with a thickness in the back of my throat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Why does everything have to fuck me over?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>My cries didn't calm and that feeling of disgust hasn't budged. </p><p> </p><p>I slowly stood up, holding the rail so I wouldn't fall. I stepped out of the tub walked over to the mirror. I took one look at myself and cried harder. I looked weak, pathetic, and small. </p><p> </p><p>Those bruises.</p><p> </p><p>Those goddamn bruises.</p><p> </p><p>I heard Charley's heavy breathing every time I looked at them. I still vividly remember his hands groping and fondling my chest and pulling my ponytails.</p><p> </p><p>I brushed my hair a little rougher that night.</p><p> </p><p>                                      </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! And yes, It can and DOES get worse :')</p><p>Comments, suggestions, and kudos are always appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Live through this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'll keep you in my room, I sure you'll be happy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(A little dialogue-heavy)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>"Sal Fisher,"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, yes, Mrs. Packerton?"</p><p> </p><p>"What's the square root of four x squared?"</p><p> </p><p>"Two x,"</p><p> </p><p>"Very good, Sal. But please make an effort to pay attention next time,"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, ma'am."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, everyone. Do pages 106 through 109 in your textbooks tonight,"</p><p> </p><p>The class collectively sighed.</p><p> </p><p>"And don't forget to show your work. Class dismissed! Mr. Fisher, see me after class."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh, great.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I walked over to Mrs. Packerton's desk after the stampede of students spilled out of the classroom. She turned to me with worried crow's feet sitting beside her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm a little concerned about you, Sal,"</p><p> </p><p>"Is it my grades? Can I make up for anything-"</p><p> </p><p>"Not your grades, <em>you</em>."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Me?"</p><p> </p><p>"You were two seconds shy of staring a hole into my chalkboard. Is there anything going on at home?"</p><p> </p><p>"Just some sleeping trouble is all,"</p><p> </p><p>She didn't buy that at all. not even a little.</p><p> </p><p>She cocked one of her eyebrows, the folds on her forehead seemed just as unconvinced.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you sure that's the hill you wanna die on?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well,"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Damn it, I'm cornered.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>"</em> Um, I don't...I don't really wanna talk about it,"</p><p> </p><p>"Are you sure?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, you're free to go. And if it makes any difference, I'm always here if you need to talk."</p><p> </p><p>"See you on Monday. And...thank you, Mrs. Packerton."</p><p> </p><p>"It's the least I could do for my brightest pupil."</p><p> </p><p>I mindlessly walked to the bathroom and just...sat there. I was too embarrassed and overwhelmed to even process what I felt. I just sat in a stall until Larry found me.</p><p> </p><p>"Come here, little man,"</p><p> </p><p>Larry helped me up and gave me a deep, secure hug. </p><p> </p><p>"I needed that."</p><p> </p><p>"I know."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello and thanks for reading! I'm sorry this took so long, I got caught up with other stuff. BUT, I have been piecing the story together a bit more.</p><p>Thank you for waiting! Suggestions are more than welcome (I don't always have ideas ~v~). </p><p>kudos and comments are always appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pretty on the inside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'll kiss your open sores.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sal is growing paranoid. (a little short)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After Dad left to go on a date with Lisa, I locked the door behind him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Then I locked it again,</p><p> </p><p>                      and again,</p><p> </p><p>                   </p><p>                             and again,</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>                                 and again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I did this a few times over for the windows as well. I've been on edge for the last week. Obsessively locking doors and windows, sneaking beers to go to sleep, glancing behind myself every two seconds, finally putting that rape whistle on my keychain, all of it made me feel a little bit safer. </p><p> </p><p>But not completely. </p><p> </p><p>I let out a hopeless sigh and curled up around Gizmo.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It's cleaning day tomorrow. Knowing my luck, I probably have Charley's room again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I pulled Gizmo a little closer.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading and sorry for the wait! I was in a creative slump for a while. But here I am! </p><p>Feel free to comment suggestions and whatnot (I don't always have I deas =v=)!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Miss World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I make my bed, I lie in it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Todd is closer to the answer than he thinks. So close, yet so far.</p><p> </p><p>(Third person limited.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Larry laid down on the green shag carpet in Todd's room by his pet fish. It smelled like it had been vacuumed not too long ago. Larry messed with his split ends before replying.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, man. Sal just came to my room and just...cried,"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Larry moved his hands to put further emphasis on his statement.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Todd swiveled around in his office chair a bit. His eyes fell into worried crescents and his bushy, ginger eyebrows furrowed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Geez,"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. He's been really distressed since cleaning day."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Who's room did he get?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Charley's."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Larry almost snickered at Todd's lip curling in disgust.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"The dude that looks like a child toucher?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Eugh</em>, Yeah, him."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Larry shivered at the thought.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Just then, Larry saw the lightbulb that lit up in Todd's head.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"What if- actually, never mind."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"What?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"It's not a fun question, Larry."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Ask</em>, bro,"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Todd's lips turned into a thin line.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"What if Charley <em>is</em> a pedo?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Larry's eyes turned into two, large, saucer plates.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"<em>Whoa</em>. I <em>hate</em> that fat fuck's guts, but that's a strong accusation."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I mean,"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Todd unlocked his computer and opened the web.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"It wouldn't hurt to look into, right?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I guess not. Keep me posted if you find anything, m'kay?"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Todd pointed a finger at Larry.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You know it."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Got any thoughts, opinions, or things you'd like to see? Comment them down below! feedback really helps, so don't be shy!</p><p> </p><p>I'll also try to make updates a little more consistent. Maybe every 2-3 weeks?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Marigold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>All in all, the clock is slow.</p><p> </p><p>(A short peek into sal's mind.)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for 1000 reads!!!</p><p> </p><p>Also, everything is italicized because it's essentially one huge thought.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Did i... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I'm not sure where I was going with that. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That's been the case with all my thoughts now. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The only thing I can piece together clearly, much to my dismay, Is getting my junk tossed around by a huge, greasy creep in a shitty bathroom. This one thing has consumed my everything. And of course, I had to clean his room. again. He didn't do anything this time, but I still felt that sick fuck's eyes burning craters into my asscheecks. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This, all of this feels like some sick punishment from something. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I mean, I guess I'm not... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don't know. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Now I'm just left here, numb, distant, and in this weird state of shock. It kinda reminds me of when my mom died. I never really got to process it, I was stuck in this weird emotional limbo.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ugh, I'm so mad at myself. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How did I let this happen? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why didn't I use the walkie-talkie? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why couldn't I fight back? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How did I get here?</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>